When Henry and I went to Starbucks today, I overruled his request for a cinnamon twist. The last couple times he’s had one, he has picked at it a bit, but hasn’t eaten a bite. The counter person overheard me and suggested we try a butter horn instead. “It’s like a miniature cinnamon twist with all the cinnamon on the inside.” Henry loved it and devoured every morsel.
A few minutes ago, I was sitting at the computer when Henry brought me one of the coasters he usually pretends are pancakes. “Cinnamon toot,” he said, pretending to eat it. “Cinnamon toot!”
It took me a while to realize he was pretending it was a butter horn.